The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity Page 3

  “What about food, water, or other supplies? How will citizens be divided into the colonies?” the reporter shouted out. The President blinked in frustration, knowing people were already outraged about their dismal future. He cleared his throat before proceeding.

  “The colonies will have the capabilities of self-sustainability. They will allow us to harvest food and water, produce pharmaceuticals, clothing, equipment, and other essential resources needed to survive. But until construction is fully completed and tested, we will not have full functionality. As a precaution, a large shipment of back-up material is underway, transported to the colony sites by our nation’s military. This will continue until evacuation day, when our time above the surface will end, and a new day in the colonies will begin. On evacuation day, the chosen citizens will evacuate to their assigned locations. Qualification into these colonies will be based upon several considerations. There will be no discrimination, no inequality regarding race, ethnicity, or gender. But to ensure our greatest chances of survival and prosperity, age and health will be dominant factors in which our panel of government officials and doctors base our decisions. This will determine the largest probability of survival and procreation. Each citizen will receive information explaining the full selection process shortly,” the President said.

  “Mr. President, what about the rest of the population? The colonies won’t be a solution for everybody, so what else are we doing to protect our less fortunate citizens?” a man asked.

  “For the remaining citizens, other safe zones and camps will be designated across the country. They will house our population for a limited time after the evacuation. Although they won’t have the functionalities of the colonies, they will be a temporary haven for all other survivors,” the President said.

  “Is there anything else we, as citizens, can do to help defend ourselves against the threat of rebellion and civil unrest? How will this war affect our economy?” a woman asked.

  “Military ground support and deployment will continue into the foreseeable future. Those who seek to cause harm to individuals, property, or who rebel against laws and authorities will be punished accordingly. As for the economy, monetary value will stop after this year. In addition, I am putting a freeze on lending and debt collections, so it is suggested you use this time now to prepare. Next year, citizens must register for the Division of Assets program. This program will divide our remaining resources amongst our civilians based upon efforts and preparation. From there, each citizen will be assigned a specific mandatory duty within their assigned territory. Labor will involve preparing supplies for the colonies, medical care, and supplying food to our troops and civilians. But it will also include the construction and environmental engineering for sustainable energy. People will no longer work for money. They will work for the future of the human race. In exchange, they will be provided food, water, shelter, energy consumption, basic human survival needs, as well as the privilege to qualify into the colony selection,” the President replied.

  “Can you explain the segregation of the states? How did you decide upon the locations of the territories, and how will the borders protect our citizens from the threat of war?” another man asked.

  “The separation of our states into territories is based upon geographical sustainability. Moving and dividing our surviving citizens into equal-sized borders was the best way our government could regulate and keep the people safe from threats. Within the last forty-eight hours, the damage caused by destructive warfare, panic, and rebellion has been far too overwhelming due to population alone. Our military is trying to rescue the remaining victims who may be amongst the devastation. Casualties are estimated to be within the millions…” the President said.

  “Mr. President, do you have any other advice for our citizens on how to cope?” a woman asked.

  “Right now it is your duty to stay calm, obey our troops, and do your best to carry on with your lives as we continue to prepare for the evacuation. As time draws nearer to evacuation day, there will be legal options for those who wish to leave the world humanely through assisted euthanasia. I have also set up several temporary locations where each citizen can talk to a counselor, receive emergency medical treatment, or ask questions. In addition, there will be a weekly presentation dedicated to understanding this scientific phenomenon, and any breaking news updates that will run from now until that time. As far as power grid failure, geomagnetic storms, or other weather-related events, we expect these to continue unpredictably, and will respond as they happen. But please be patient as we explore other energy alternatives. With your cooperation and your willingness, we will not succumb to this darkness. With the use of science and technological innovation, the human race will prosper once more.”

  After his address, more questions roared from the press. Cameras continued to shoot, flash, and capture scenes of peril and uncertainty in the eyes of the President, who tried to remain composed on the outside. But I could see through it. It was the same fear we all had—the same doubt. There was little hope, petty confidence in our survival. Even if we had the capabilities to overcome this, human nature would destroy the world well before our sun betrayed us. Our fall had already begun.

  4 FALLEN

  As summer came to a close, the side-effects of war had already unraveled in front of us. I recovered from the accident as the news headlines invaded every screen people could glue their eyes on. In healing, I waited while the rest of the world watched the demonstrations of civil unrest unfold. Why I survived that car accident made little sense after that. But it wasn’t the first time I contemplated death, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  Endless addresses from the President would always be a distraction. And after four months, the economy was on the brink of the largest collapse in human history. When it began, some people left everything behind to run, blaming public awareness for the impending catastrophe. Many took the warning as a reason to prepare, stockpiling food and other essential items. And as more auroras appeared in the night skies, society spiraled into chaos.

  In the beginning, fires broke out from power grids that left our cities without electricity. But blackouts were only one of several common inconveniences, forcing modern civilization to adapt. And as money became worthless, the value of precious resources soared. The coming solar ice age would only put a finishing touch on our destruction—leaving Earth’s surface an uninhabitable wasteland. It was an astronomical certainty. The only thing standing in the way now was time.

  Many people struggled to believe construction of the colonies would be finished before the end. Even NASA couldn’t guarantee how long we had left. They only made unreliable predictions we couldn’t trust. Ten years was a best-case scenario—an attempt at comfort—to give the public hope and reassurance to push forward toward a new day. As expected, suicide rates increased, and rebellion became more common following the announcement. After the borders were up, we had to stay calm and cooperative, or risk the consequences of disobedience. The ones in control held the key to our survival, regardless of whether we wanted them to or not. Now, the military lurked in the streets, outside homes, and along stretches of highway. In each territory, they waited for their opportunity to dispose of unruly civilians. Discarding them would benefit the masses, increasing law-abiding citizens odds at being selected. As merciless as it was, our government had counted on it. Everyone did. There wouldn’t be sufficient resources for all, or enough space within the colonies. And as states divided into territories, as cities were segregated with twenty-five foot iron walls surrounded by guards and watch towers, we said goodbye to our old lives. Beyond the barricades, interstates, through the desert and mountains, the land became obsolete. As war continued, it grew into a wilderness—a world filled with abandoned countryside and deserted ghost towns. Off the grid, you were as good as dead.

  Pharmaceuticals struggled to keep up with the high demand for drugs. Many places of worship held special services. Curfews served to ward off crimes. And with
a fractional education system, we learned how to adapt to the end of days. Most of the things we once took for granted disappeared after the collapse—the indulgence of shopping, dining, our obsession with technology. To my surprise, it hadn’t been long before people became numb to it all. I guess after months of choking on denial, that’s just what happens. You swallow. Now, we had no choice but to accept that our lives were mere fractions of what we thought they’d be. And soon, only a handful of us would survive within the depths of the earth—a vision that continued to haunt my dreams.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I rushed in and out of the house that day, dragging the boxes from my room, wincing at the lingering ache in my leg. Memories from the crash still returned at random, reminding me of the impact. Carelessly, I kicked the heavy box forward, pushing it to the edge of the stairway in frustration before sluggishly forcing myself down on the top step to tend to the pain. I leaned my head against the cool wall while the tears came. Depression had been a constant struggle in the months after the news, but it wasn’t a trick that the chemicals in my brain played on me. This was how I should’ve felt. In fact, it was how many of us felt upon knowing our lives were ending. No surprise. There was no use fighting it anymore.

  I wrestled the bags of clothing into the trunk of my mother’s old, rusty car. As I dried my tears, gravel crunched under the weight of tires approaching along the driveway behind me. Without looking, I scurried back into the house to hide the mess I created. I hoped my tidiness would soften the blow when she found out my intentions. But it was Evan who paid me an unexpected visit, which was even worse.

  I peered at him from my bedroom window as he got out of the old, red jeep. Clenching my eyes shut, I took a deep breath, knowing how difficult it would be to face him, to tell him. And after the thud of slow footsteps on the porch came a loud knock on the front door. Now, I had no choice but to confront him. I hesitated down the stairs, trying to appear as casual as possible as he stood before me, his worried glance indicating his suspicion.

  “Hey.” He looked around behind me, denying the emotion that wanted desperately to show through. “I figured I’d drop by to see if you were… alright.” He swallowed in worry.

  “I was just cleaning up,” I said, finding comfort in knowing it was only half a lie, trying to sound calm. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

  “Can I come in?” he asked. I hesitated before pulling the creaky porch door open for him. With the squeal of its rusty hinges, I prayed he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “Listen, it’s been a month since you’ve left this house. Are you okay?”

  “If I told you I was, would it matter?” I muttered, looking down.

  “You don’t have to deal with this alone. And I—I guess I just want to know what happened between us.” We exchanged a sad glance, tears now flooding my eyes as a result. “Everyone keeps asking me if you’re okay. It’s dangerous out here. We’re… scared for you,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, I’m scared for them too, okay?” I said in a raised, shaken voice. Just then, he took a step closer, wrapping his arms around me before looking back down again. But I wished he hadn’t.

  “You don’t have to feel responsible for feeling like this, or about your mom. I’m just worried about you. I don’t want to lose you sooner than I already have to, that’s all,” he said. I closed my eyes, swallowing away the tears.

  “You know we can’t do this anymore.”

  “Do what?” he asked, beaming at me in alarm as he swept his thumb across the scar from the collision, pushing my stubborn strands away from it.

  “This. The odds of making it into a colony are completely against us.” Tears forced their way down my cheek.

  “We don’t have to worry about the colonies yet.” He winced.

  “How do we know that? You’ve heard the news, Evan. They aren’t sure how quickly it will happen.”

  “Maybe not… but we’re still here now. That’s all that matters. We can still live while there’s time,” he said.

  “No, that’s the thing. There is no more time.” I pushed him away in frustration.

  “What’s going on? What is the box for, Aubrey?” he asked, blinking at the forgotten clothes on the floor.

  “I’m leaving. Okay?” I hadn’t meant to say it, but the words forced themselves out like vomit. And the thought of lying to him only made my stomach flip even more.

  “What? Where? Where do you think you’ll go?” he asked, wincing in defeat.

  “My transfer request was approved. My sister is letting me stay with her and her husband in Grand Junction while things blow over. I’m sorry.” I gazed at the floor. He stared at the wall as his jaw tensed up in confusion.

  “Are you coming back?” But he already knew the answer.

  “Not if they enforce more travel restrictions. And with my mom joining in with the protesters downtown, I might ruin my chances at qualification here. I can’t be held accountable for her actions.” His eyes darted back and forth, trying to process what I’d told him.

  “But… Aubrey, you can’t just leave her like this. What if she does something worse? She’s already unstable. What if she gets into more trouble when she finds out you left?” he asked. On the inside, I panicked, knowing his concerns were reflective of my own.

  “You can’t help people who refuse to help themselves, Evan. I—I can’t put up with her actions anymore...” I backed away before darting up the stairs in guilt. He chased after me as I stormed into my bedroom. Tears streamed from the sides of my cheeks as I lifted a heavy box from off the floor to distract myself from my remorse. When I spun around, he was standing in front of me. Crashing into him sent the bottom of the box into collapse, a pile of clothes tumbling to the floor, accumulating at my feet. In an instant, I twisted back around, the stick straight strands from my long ponytail whipping in a daggering circle as I forced my eyes closed. I was desperate to regain control, but the overpowering emotions kept flooding out of me as I listened to Evan’s rapid breathing.

  “What about me? What about the people who care about you, Aubrey?”

  “I can’t stay here,” I repeated dully.

  “So that’s it? You’re just going to leave us all behind?” His turbulent voice echoed loudly throughout the room, shuddering me with guilt.

  “My sister was right about my mother all along. She’s going to rebel. It’s not safe here with her,” I said.

  “Then let me go with you. Come on. You don’t have to do this alone,” he suggested, glancing at the mess on the floor.

  “Yes I do,” I said. “And I can take care of myself without you running after me all the time.” I shook my head. He seemed startled by my impulsive response.

  “If I hadn’t run after you that night, you could have died,” he snapped. I examined him in shame.

  “Things are different now, Ev. I can’t recover from something like this. It doesn’t work that way,” I said. My mother couldn’t recuperate from her self-destruction, either. Being permanently damaged was the one thing her and I had in common now.

  “You’re scared. I get it. But you’re risking everything. This isn’t something you can run away from, Aubs...” he panicked.

  “And you believe we can pick up where we left off and be happy again? Like somehow pretending this isn’t real will justify what’s happening? You’ve already wasted too much of your time trying to change the things that won’t matter when this is over, so… just stop,” I said.

  “Wasted my time? Is that what you think I did with you?” he asked, shaking his head in a wrath of disgust.

  “It doesn’t matter...” I crouched down, grabbing another

  box before sliding past him. He glared at me, his lungs digging deeper for air. As I stepped down the stairs, he bolted ahead of me, blocking the door.

  “Evan, please get out of the way,” I begged.

  “I saved your life. That hardly qualifies as wasting my time. And running won’t make this any easier for you,”
he stormed.

  “Neither will staying here.” I withdrew my glance. That was where he drew the line, throwing his hands backward in a rage of defeat.

  “So from now on, nothing matters to you? You’re just going to throw your life away? Is that it?” he lashed out.

  “I can’t just forget about this like you can. And getting our hopes up about a future that might not exist will only cause more suffering.” I spaced out.

  “We don’t have to forget anything. And right now I don’t give a shit about the future, I care about now,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder in desperation.

  “Why hold onto something if it’ll only end up meaningless in the end?” I exhausted in tears, forcing his hand away from me.

  “Because sometimes… that’s just how life works, Aubrey. Things end. And right now is all we have left, regardless of the past, regardless of how shitty and hopeless our future might be,” he hissed, looking around. I stood motionless as his words rung through me.

  “It’s too late, Ev… It always was,” I said. A disgruntled glare preceded his backward steps. I lifted my eyes in dread, my hands quaking as I wiped the tears away.

  “You know what? One day you’ll realize your world only ended because you made the choice to end it yourself,” he snapped, turning his back to me. My lips trembled as he trudged off. My head pounded in sync to the slamming of his car door, the violent thrashing of gravel beneath his jeep forming a familiar cloud of dust.